Are You My Father
by nightkitty555
Summary: A distraught Harry Potter after the death of his godfather has started to question everything people had always told him about his parents. He's not even sure who they were. Keywords: Sevitus / Severitus
1. Chapter 1 Accusation

Are You My Father

Disclaimer: I just put it once at the beginning of my stories, but I don't own anything from Harry Potter.

Chapter 1- Accusation

*****Severus, Day 1*****

Severus Snape rarely had time to relish simple pleasure in life, stuck with a career he did not chose but could _perhaps_ enjoy if he was not hated by three quarters or more of the castle. He couldn't blame his students for hating him, because he generally hated himself as well. If he could finish marking exams early, Severus could at least enjoy the last week of term in relative peace. Of course, since his time was not his own, this was dependent on what the Dark Lord had planned after being revealed to the public, or what Albus had planned after the same revelation. At least Severus was done with classes with the brats for an entire summer, and he didn't have to mark final exams for the fifth and seventh years, so there was no excessively long paper from Granger that he would have to search through to find a half-imagined flaw.

His relative peace was disturbed by none other than the Golden Boy of Gryffindor, but not with the sort of interruption that he would have expected. The boy burst in, closed the door behind him, and walked directly up to his desk.

"POTTER, what are you-" was all Severus got out before the boy interrupted _him_ , Severus Snape, the most feared teacher of Gryffindors for more than a decade. Then again, a Potter never knew about respect.

Potter spoke in a low, almost eerie voice, "You hated James Potter because you loved my mother, didn't you?"

No. No. _No_. Potter couldn't have any idea. Severus was sure that Potter hadn't seen any memory even in the Occlumency ordeal that would give the little bastard that idea. "Of course not, Potter. I hated your father because he was a wretched human being and we shared a mutual hatred from the moment we first met, and you are of the same stock. What do you mean, barging into my office? Just because the term is nearly over and you have had an 'incident' that has caused everyone else in the castle to treat you like glass does not mean I can't make your life… difficult," Severus threatened. He would do as much as he was allowed. "Twenty points from Gryffindor to start. Remember, you have two more years at this school, Potter, even if I will finally be free of having you in my class." Severus considered assigning detention as well, but he knew Filch was otherwise occupied and Severus had no desire to oversee the detentions himself. If he were to assign the boy to anyone else, they would let him off too easily.

"You were her friend from the time you were in first year. I've asked around. That memory is one of your worst not because of what James Potter and Sirius did to you but because of what you said to my mother, wasn't it?" Was the boy drunk? Bewitched? Students did not have the courage to stand up to the dungeon bat. It was probably a mental break after the happenings at the Ministry.

"Ten points from Gryffindor. You'll lose your house the cup all by yourself at this rate, despite Gryffindor's former considerable lead. Potter, you are distraught over Black's death. It is normal to grieve, though he doesn't deserve it. If you leave my presence now, I won't seek permanent consequences for your stupidity." Even Severus could see that the boy needed to be in the hospital wing.

"Yeah, Sirius. When I last talked to him, I was telling him what absolute _shit_ he was for the things he did to you in school, and the last thing that he said to me was that I wasn't as much like my father as he thought. Yeah, despite what you think, I'm not like that." That was… interesting.

"And I meant to leave the fireplace then. I _knew_ I should. I haven't told anyone what I said next, though Lupin heard too, but I told him that if he and my dad were such bullying gits, then maybe I was better off with a dead father than with him alive," the boy paused. "And I never talked to Sirius again. And it's my fault he's dead. And he _loved_ me. He wasn't the best person. Maybe he _was_ absolute shit, and he was crazy- maybe he was crazy before Azkaban even, and that's why he was shite, but he _loved_ me and he came to find me. And if I didn't know now that there was a damned prophesy basically saying the world would go to hell if I bit it, I'm not sure I wouldn't have thrown myself off of the Astronomy tower before now. But now I don't even think James Potter ever was my father."

Harry Potter, Boy Who Lived, was suffering a mental break and threatening to commit suicide. In _his_ office, so it was his problem now.

"Then who the hell do you think is, Potter?" Severus said slowly. He wasn't any good at this. He should probably just stun the boy and haul him to the Hospital Wing to be done with him.

"You," the child said, meeting his eyes. That was it- the boy was insane, completely unhinged.

"Potter, you look so much like James Potter you could have been a muggle cloning experiment."

"You loved her, didn't you? I just found out that my parents weren't even married until _six months_ before I was born. Why did they even get married? You're not telling me it's not possible, professor. You'd just have to say that you didn't have _sex_ with my mother around the right time, and maybe I'd have to believe you."

"Potter, you're not _well_. You need to see Madame Pomfrey, or your Head of House or anyone more suited to deal with a troubled child than myself," Severus urged, almost kindly. This was not his sort of conversation. He'd dealt with more than a decade of troubled, even abused young Slytherins, but not this Gryffindor.

"Stop calling me _Potter_ ," the boy said more calmly than Severus would expect. "You're scared because you think I might be your son, but you hate me and I'm a danger to everyone around me. I can't blame you for the last part. I can't blame you for the first part either. Most everyone I've met has hated me for as long as I can remember, so you're no different really."

"You are impossible to talk to and you need psychiatric help, a rather prominent failing of the wizarding world. Regardless, you are _clearly_ of Potter decent, and despite what you might have in your head, Lily Evans chose the better man," Severus said, not believing that he was giving voice to those particular words.

"He was a bully who-"

"And I am a murderer and the reason she is now dead," Severus roared, waiting for the explosion to come from the boy in in front of him. There it was, all the reasons in the world for the boy to hate him, past his own treatment of the boy.

"I know," the boy said instead, "Dumbledore told me. It's the worst feeling in the world to be the cause of the death of someone you love, isn't it? That bit about you wasn't even the biggest shock of the day after me killing my godfather and hearing about how only _I_ can kill Voldemort. Kind of a lot to throw on a person at once."

Snape was silent for a moment. _What the hell had happened to Harry Potter?_ Trauma, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder as the muggles would call it, something he researched for himself years ago. "You are not- the major contributor to Black's death." Would it help for him to tell the child that?

"Yes I am. You don't have to lie to me like everyone else. I already know that you don't like me. I blamed you for a while, for ending our lessons, but that was my fault too. And I blamed Dumbledore and the Order for not telling me what was going on or I might have expected the trap. And Kreacher for lying to me about where Sirius was when I asked. But there were so many things I could have done differently. Could have done better. I could have learned Occlumency. I could have opened the gift that Sirius gave me and found the mirror, and then I'd be able to talk to him whenever and I wouldn't have needed a floo. I could have just believed that you'd take care of it. Or I could have gone by myself and gotten killed, but no one else would know. And at least I'd deserve it and some of my friends wouldn't still be in the hospital and Sirius wouldn't be dead."

"Potter," Snape stopped him, Harry raising his eyes to look at him again. "Black was a grown man who knew the risks of being an Order member. He knew his particular dangers of leaving headquarters. If you must place blame, place it with him. I- dare say that however numerous his own faults were, he would rather you hate him than yourself. Or you can place blame where the fault ultimately resides, with Bellatrix Lestrange and the Dark Lord."

"I tried to cast the Cruciatus Curse on her," Harry offered lightly, sounding more unhinged each minute. "She screamed but only for a second before she laughed at me. She said I didn't hate enough. I think I just only hate myself enough. Why on earth else would I be spilling my guts to the only other person in the castle who hates me as much as I do? I reckon you hate me more than Voldemort does, but not as much as my uncle. And I'm going back to that damned house where you're so sure I'm a spoiled prince, more spoiled than Malfoy. But I'm not. Because even Death Eaters usually love their own sons, and I'll never be more than a house elf on Privet Drive."

"You have thousands of people fawning at your feet. And your- parents loved you," Severus said, ignoring the troubling part about Harry Potter casting an Unforgivable Curse, even if it didn't properly work.

"And died because of it. You know, I've only heard my mother's voice in your memory and her last words before she died whenever I'm near a dementor. And now that I'm not sure James Potter was ever my father, I'm not sure how I feel about that. I mean, he did die trying to save my mother and me, but he was a bully and a git, and I won't excuse him because he was young because he was _my_ age, and I'd _never_ do that, whatever you might think of me."

"Potter, you're too young for this sort of crisis, and I'm telling you like every person in the magical world has, I'm sure, that you look almost exactly like the man and are _clearly_ related," Severus reiterated. _The boy heard Lily when a dementor was near?_ Of course a child should never have been around the monsters to find out.

"Maybe too much like him even? I've done my research, and I'm surprised if you haven't as well. There's potions for that, to permanently change a child's appearance if taken at certain stages before birth, potions favored both among women having affairs and for pureblood lines where the male is infertile, an issue throughout wizarding history in many wizarding families not named Weasley from what I've read. Just tell me if it's possible."

 _What the hell was he doing?_ "Halloween, 1979," Severus spat, "It was a party that she had no business attending. She came in disguise to find me. Is that what you want to hear? But human gestation is rarely exactly nine months. She was likely already pregnant when she sought me out. She was certainly already sleeping with Potter, and they announced their engagement only a week after. Potter had already asked her to marry him and she asked for some time to consider. What do you hope to take away from this conversation, Potter? You just experienced a loss, but there are dozens around you who care-"

"It's not about that. I just have to know alright?" the boy said, less tense now, "I just need a blood sample and- and maybe some help making the potion so I don't mess it up. I found the instructions and everything already. I'd usually ask Hermione, but I don't want her to know," the boy explained. The boy declared his inclination to brew a potion harder than most seventh year potions.

 _What in Merlin's name was he doing? He should report this- but- what if it were true? Would that change anything? It couldn't, but how could it not?_ "It's not a potion I have on hand, and purchasing the potion base to only add the blood samples would attract attention I would like to avoid, and you should as well. It will take about a week for me to brew, ready for your blood just before you are due to leave for holidays if I begin tomorrow. The blood must be fresh or I would simply take a sample now."

"Can I- help or watch or something?" the boy asked, and Severus could see the ragged desperation. The child wasn't coping well with Black's death. This was the root of his hysteria for sure. The child did start to look better though, less crazed, the moment Severus agreed to make the potion. There went Severus's previous hope of a peaceful week. This was a terrible time to be in the castle. There weren't even classes to keep the child distracted. Why were they still on school premises at this point? Fruitlessly waiting for end of term exams to be graded, which fifth years didn't even take with OWL exams in their place? Still- if the boy was by any minute possibility his- son, could he really turn him down? Yes, he could yell and be cruel to the boy like he had been from the first time he set eyes on the thechild… Was that what he wanted- to be as worthless as his own father, Tobias Snape?

"Fine. I will begin brewing tomorrow morning at 8:00 sharp. Bring your latest potions text and your best defense text, not the drivel you had in class this year," Severus instructed.

And then the boy left, without another word but with a smile on his face, looking calm for one of the only times that he had been in his professor's presence. The child was insane. Certifiable. Severus really should just walk straight to the Headmaster's office and let Albus deal with it. But that would lead to- uncomfortable conversations.

Really, all Severus would need to do was brew the potion and prove the boy's accusation to be unfounded. It wouldn't even take much time away from his personal work, and at this time of year he wouldn't be doing anything more interesting than restocking the infirmary anyway. It was madness to give in to the boy's request, but it was the easiest course of action and- perhaps now Severus needed to know as well…

Severus knew he would not sleep any semblance of well that night, not that he usually did. He would need to gather the proper ingredients, most of which he should have on hand, but might be running low. Why had he agreed to let the boy watch, as if he needed another problem underfoot?

Severus found himself in his quarters considering the strongest liquor he had in his private stores. If it were true- if the boy was right even though he was crazed- would Severus be any better father than his own? No, he wouldn't sleep well that night at all.

 **A/N: There it is, the start to a new story! This one just came to me and took over all of my attention, and the next chapters will be longer.**

 **I am also working on year 2 of a Severitus (hidden unknowingly by metamorphmagus powers) story called Morphed Secrets, which you should check out if you like this one so far. I will be updating both of them, though perhaps this one more regularly for a time. I am shooting for once a week, or more frequently if motivated enough by reviews!**


	2. Chapter 2 Brewing

Chapter 2- Brewing

*****Severus, Day 2*****

The boy arrived the next morning as Severus was placing his favorite iron caldron on the workspace. The child even arrived five minutes before he had instructed. The boy tightly gripped his fifth year potions text and a better defense book than Severus had expected, though he hadn't expected the boy to have anything better than his fourth year text. Instead, the boy held _Practical Defensive Magic and Its Use Against the Dark Arts_ by Marietta Jones. "That is an- appropriate text to advance your skill in defense," Severus commented. There, that was a neutral, almost friendly by his standards comment. Because he was looking, he noticed that the boy smiled for a moment before looking at his feet. The child was somewhat unhinged, but not unresponsive.

"Sirius and Lupin gave it to me for Christmas," the child muttered. Severus didn't think Harry Potter was the type that would appreciate a book for a holiday gift like Granger would, but did he really know anything about the boy?

"Have you finished reading it?" Severus questioned.

"Yes sir."

"Describe for me what you believed to be the most important passages as I retrieve and prepare ingredients for the first steps," Severus instructed, walking into the storage room to retrieve the few items he needed. Some of them were already on his work table, brought from his personal stores because they wouldn't be available for student access.

"Er- well," he heard the boy begin, easier to listen to when Severus wasn't looking at the child's face, "There are some good spells in it, but mostly I think the passages with advice were the best. It said that just knowing spells wasn't enough, and you needed to practice them again and again until you can use them in a high pressure environment. I mean, I knew that already, but it was still really good for the book to say. It said that dueling and practicing fighting in groups was really important, or you'd never be coordinated for real world situations. And if you can guess what dangers you're most likely to face, you should prepare for them in particular, which sounds obvious I know, but still. It suggested some spells for against different magical creatures or- human attackers, and it talked about using spells that are taught in other classes like charms and transfiguration instead of a normal defense class. Like, I've used the summoning charm in dangerous situations sometimes, and I think the book's author would like that. Or just conjuring or hiding behind something can block Unforgivable curses even though no magical shield would," the child rambled on, more words than Severus had ever heard out of the child at once, or at least more words that Severus had actually listen to the boy say.

Severus returned to the classroom, which felt so empty with only the two of them in it, and began dicing ingredients, occasionally glancing at the text in front of him but not really needing it, as he had thought of little besides this potion from the moment the boy left his quarters the evening before. The boy had gone quiet, so he asked another question, "And you used this book to help you plan lessons for your- club? I believe you were the leader?"

"I- I'm not sure if I can say anything sir. There was a spell set up to ah- well you saw what happened to Marietta Edgecombe, sir."

"You can say whatever you chose. Professor Dumbledore was able to break the enchantments, thought I believe he kept the parchment as a memento," the weird old fool. "And I don't believe Miss Edgecombe has yet been- cured."

"Well then- yeah, the book was really helpful planning lessons and stuff. We went over a lot of spells that most people had already learned, getting better at them before we tried anything new."

And what was the highest difficulty spell you taught your classmates?" Severus asked, genuinely curious by now. The boy had a real grasp of teaching methods."

"The Patronus charm. I never trusted dementors, and after my- attack- in the summer, it was a logical choice I thought, and everyone was ready to learn to defend against them because they remembered having them around the school and hating that." It was a "logical choice," teaching the Patronus charm? The boy spoke so casually about mastering himself and at least trying to teach others one of the most difficult and powerful defensive magics in existence. Of course, the boy had mastered it at age thirteen, he remembered, if half of the Order that professed it was not incorrect.

"You taught a group of what- fourth through seventh years the Patronus charm? Did a single one of them manage it?" Severus asked casually.

"Yeah, of course. They're great with some motivation. We just haven't had decent defense teachers often, or I'm sure they'd have gotten it quicker," the boy said, perhaps genuinely oblivious to how advanced the charm was. An impressive Patronus was a strong enough symbol that it would be a rallying force to getting oneself elected to high public office, though he doubted Fudge could manage the charm. It was shown to seventh year NEWT students and sometimes asked in a practical NEWT, but to his knowledge, less than a handful of Hogwarts students in the last two decades had managed it- though he had heard rumor that a few seventh years had this year, despite their near lack of defense teacher.

The boy was still talking, and he actually seemed happy, even proud when talking about his group, "And there were some third years in the group too, well, I guess just Dennis Creevey, and he didn't get more than a haze for his Patronus, but he's still young." The boy didn't seem to appreciate how impressive an indistinct Patronus was. Severus would never had guessed that little Dennis Creevey could manage it. "But lots of the others got it. Cho has a really great swan, and when we first started lessons, she was still having trouble with the disarming charm. And Hermione and Ron, and Luna, and Fred and George, though Ginny got it before they did, and Oliver, and loads more have almost got it. Parvati, we think has a squirrel, and that made Padma so mad that her sister got it first, but she'll get it soon too. When we had our last class, I was just starting to plan having them tested more, you know, on a boggart because they become dementors when they see me. Oh, and Colin Creevey had something with feathers though he didn't quite see it."

"Creevey formed a corporeal Patronus?!" this was entirely too much. The boy's teachings were getting unreal results. "You could have told me it was Longbottom and I wouldn't have been more surprised."

"Neville's close," the child protested hotly. "He got a really thick fog. I think using his father's wand has always held him back. It never really chose him and he- he associated it with worries that his grandmother didn't think he was good enough to be his father's son. And I think he has trouble concentrating on a happy enough memory," the boy rushed out. Did those words come out of a fifteen-year-old Gryffindor boy? That insight into another child on an issue that Severus doubted that Longbottom would discuss, but what did Severus know about fifth year Gryffindors anymore?

"It is a very detrimental tradition in some pureblood families to pass wands of ancestors along to later generations. Occasionally there is a good match, but parents are hardly ever wand experts," there it was, not admitting guilt for terrorizing the Longbottom boy for years about as harshly as he had the boy in front of him.

"Well he's going to get a new wand now, since his broke at- you know, the Ministry. So that's good at least. I think he'll do better with a new one. Ron did better after he got a new one after second year." Severus added the first ingredients to the caldron, making the flame below it rise.

"Do you intend to keep this little club going on next school year?" Severus asked, counting his stirs.

"I- well I don't know. I guess it depends on if our new professor is rubbish or not."

Severus actually snorted, "Have you had anyone decent thus far? I can tell you that the teachers have been declining at least since I was a student, and they were rarely any good then."

"Lupin was good, even if we did just talk about magical creatures, and Moody- er, Crouch I guess provided some useful teachings even if he was, you know…"

"And what exactly did you learn from the lunatic?" Severus asked, refraining from commenting on the wolf for the moment. It had pained him, that year, to prepare potions for one of the people who tormented him as a child, even if he retaliated and even though Lupin never took more than a passive role. The boy still never did much to stop his friends and certainly never reported them. Severus had to make the damn potions to keep everyone in the castle safe, so he couldn't refuse, not that Dumbledore would have let him.

"How to resist the Imperious Curse, for one. I'd never have been able to resist Vole- sorry You-Know-Who's curse in the graveyard if he hadn't cast it on me so many times in the classroom. I mean I guess it was pretty sick, him having me crash into things, but I got the hang of it in the end, and he didn't even try to repeat it on the others."

"He used an Unforgivable Curse? On fourth years?" Severus asked as calmly as he was able, which was a far cry from his normal self. That maniac repeatedly cast the imperious curse on his _son_? No. Where did that fury come from? No, it was just Potter. Nothing had been proven yet. "And did any of you report this to Professor McGonagall or Professor Dumbledore?"

"He said Dumbledore knew and gave permission."

"The man was a psychopath! And you all just followed like sheep because he was the great and brave Alastor Moody. If he had tried it on my Slytherins, I would have heard the moment class was out if not sooner, and the old fraud would have been out on his arse before the end of the day!"

"Why do you care?" Harry asked quietly. That was not the reaction Severus was expecting from his growing anger. "If he didn't do it on all the classes, then it was just a bunch of Gryffindors that got hurt, so why would you care?"

"I- care about all of my students," Severus said hotly, a complete lie if you went by his actions alone. It probably was a lie completely. He had always cared about Harry though, even if it wasn't for the boy's sake. _Harry?_ He had never even thought of the boy as anything but Potter. "And you resisted the Imperious Curse? That is a rare skill and considered linked to Occlumency," Severus said, not even rubbing the connection further. But the skills were connected. What did it mean if a crazed escaped Death Eater could teach the boy to resist the Imperious Curse, but he couldn't teach the boy Occlumency?

"Yeah, I did. It took a few tries, but yeah," the boy said so calmly, as if resisting unforgivable curses were something normal children did. "I've got to say that it's my favorite one though- the Cruciatus Curse hurts a lot more, and I certainly couldn't resist flopping around on the floor under that one." It was eerie to listen to a child talk casually about experiencing perhaps the most painful curse of wizard kind. Other tortures lasted longer or killed more gruesomely, but the Cruciatus Curse was the standby for pain for a reason.

"The Cruciatus is physical pain and can be later detected by medical scans. Resisting isn't a very practical idea, more than slightly lessoning the thrashings, though mental strength can delay insanity for some length of time." The boy nodded as if appreciating the new knowledge in case he needed it later- then again, the boy perhaps would. How had a Hogwarts student been through so much in just five school years, many of those things happening on Hogwarts grounds? He studied the boy closely for a moment. The child looked lost, blank even, but not the angry, crazed teenager from the day before.

There wasn't anything that needed to be done to the potion for over a day, so Severus would have been well within their agreement to send the boy packing now, since he wasn't working on the potion. Severus went to the store rooms again and retrieved ingredients for Dreamless Sleep draughts, a staple for the infirmary and for a simple cure for boils potion, something in higher demand recently that he knew had root with the Weasley twins. Arranging the ingredients separately further down on the work table, he was slightly surprised when the boy said, "Those aren't ingredients for the potion." He didn't think the boy would have paid close enough attention to notice.

"My progress on the potion base is done for the day. I do have other brewing to attend to that I have delayed, currently restocking the Hospital Wing. Tell me, can you recognize the two potions from the ingredients I selected?"

"Er, the cure for boils over there? And some kind of sleeping potion, but not one we've done in class?"

"Yes. I'm surprised you'd remember or recognize it," Severus commented, half way between praise and insult. "How did you know the second was a sleeping potion?"

"I did a lot of revising for OWLs. Hermione makes strict timetables, and it's easier to just follow them- helpful too. I should probably tell her that I'm glad she did that. Um, and because there were the major ingredients of a sleeping potion we've made before, the wormwood, valerian, Sopophorous beanand- flobberworm," the child said grimacing at the last bit, "but some other ingredients that I didn't recognize all of, and you put them kind of to the side, like maybe they'll be added later."

Severus nodded, surprised by the insight, though it should hardly be surprising because the passage when students learn simple sleeping draughts expounds on including additional ingredients to specialize a potion. "As I said, there is nothing else to do to the paternity potion until tomorrow, and I have to brew supplies for the Infirmary. But, if you insist on hovering, you may instead brew the cure for boils potion that you recognized."

"And I received a failing mark for it, sir, in first year," the boy pointed out annoying. Severus didn't remember that particular potion, but he recalled the little face looking at his first "D" at that age, resigned rather than hurt or surprised. Severus didn't remember what had been wrong with the boy's potion, but it was probably no worse than half of the class that he hadn't failed. Most of their lessons since first the child's first year had followed the same but Severus hadn't noticed when the child stopped reacting to poor marks, even getting the occasional "T" when Severus was feeling vengeful.

"Well this once I will give you the benefit of expecting that you learned something in the following four years," Severus settled on, and he glanced up at the boy to find him smiling and looking over the ingredients in the cure for boils potion. "If you're staying, I suggest you locate a first year book from the shelves and begin your work," and the boy actually did so, and they worked for the next hour and a half in almost companionable silence.

When Severus was finishing his own potion, he realized that even though the child took longer to prepare ingredients, the boy's potion must have been done because the brewing time was significantly shorter for that simpler potion, but the child hadn't said a thing. Severus had stopped glancing at the boy expecting him to make a mistake over an hour ago. Sure enough, the child was looking down at a sufficiently brewed potion, pink smoke lifting out of his caldron. It was one of the reasons that it was a first year potion, that there were clear signs of visible success after each step of the potion, ending with the distinctive pink smoke. There were usually a few every year that were good enough to bottle and send off to the Hospital Wing, so he rarely had to bother brewing the stock until the Weasley twins. "Vials of the correct size for that potion for the Hospital Wing are in the second cabinet on the left, bottom shelf. Bottle it up and you may go." It must have been nearing lunch time by that point and he was surprised the boy had finished the potion and remained silent. Severus extinguished the flames under his own caldron, and retrieved similar vials from a different cabinet.

The child hadn't moved yet, "My potions good enough to go to the Hospital Wing?" the boy asked.

"Yes. Otherwise I wouldn't have you bother to bottle it, would I?"

"Thank you," the child said, as if Severus had paid him a great compliment rather than stated simple fact. Severus faced away from the child while storing his potion, looking back when the boy asked, "Are there- any other potions you need that- I could help with?"

"I suggest you go find lunch and see your little friends. Perhaps tomorrow, after the next steps of our potion. I will begin work at twelve, and if you would like to stay, I expect you to have eaten before as it will take several hours. I am sure your little friends are worried that you've disappeared for the morning."

"Hermione's still in the Hospital Wing, and Ron was technically released, but he spends most of the day there anyway- he er- likes her, I think. I tend to stay away from the Hospital Wing as much as I can, so they probably wouldn't notice anything. I've been ah- brooding a lot as Hermione would say. It's ah- better to be doing something."

"It stands that you need to eat, and see your friends. I believe Hagrid has some mongrel or another you can look at if your other friends are indeed occupied. If you do stop by the hospital wing, you can give Madame Pomfrey this," he said, handing the boy a note, "It is a request to be informed of what other potions need restocking this summer." The child nodded and looked back at Severus twice as he left the room. That was quite enough of that though- spending hours with the boy outside of class when he would likely see him tomorrow as well. Severus Snape was no therapist or- parent…

*****Harry*****

Harry left the room smiling to himself. For the first time in a while, food in the Great Hall did sound good enough that he might not mind being around so many people for just a bit. And perhaps he would go visit Hagrid that afternoon. And even if Professor Snape hadn't demanded that he get the list of potions from Madame Pomfrey, he really should do it. And Hermione and Ron would probably like to see him; he knew they were worried. They- they somehow didn't hate him for endangering them all.

Harry ate enough in the Great Hall that he was uncomfortably full for the first time in over a week and that afternoon could honestly tell Hagrid that he couldn't possibly eat any of the man's baked goods. Harry's first friend was cheerful, even if he was painfully cheerful, and Harry appreciated it. Madame Pomfrey seemed surprised to see Harry carrying a note from Professor Snape, but nonetheless told him that she'd have a list made up for him before he finished his visit with his friends. Harry would never have come without that note, but was a bit glad he did when he saw Hermione sitting up and beaming at him. He couldn't help but give a small smile in return. "How are you feeling?" he asked, even initiating conversation.

"Harry, I'm so glad you came. Ron's already left for supper and he was worried that he hadn't seen you at lunch, but maybe you ate later? I tell him he doesn't need to be here every minute- I've never seen him worried before, but Madame Pomfrey doesn't send him away because I think she still wants to keep an eye on him. And I'm feeling fine, really. I should get to leave tomorrow. It only took that long because she wasn't sure what the curse was, and it was fascinating to hear about the process of treating an unknown curse. I wish I could have been awake for more of it," Hermione went on. It was nice to get Hermione going on a topic, even a gruesome one, because then he didn't have to say much else. Harry smiled, listening to his friend talk, feeling less empty than he had two days before. He had friends and maybe even family that didn't hate him as much as the man did before.

 **A/N: I loved the responses from the first chapter! Please let me now if you like that one as well! I always welcome reviews and have been inspired by them to start new stories or take stories in new directions.**


	3. Chapter 3 Routine

Chapter 3- Routine

*****Severus, Day 3*****

The child appeared in his work room a full fifteen minutes before noon when Severus had told him to arrive. He was only just beginning to prepare his ingredients for the day. "Here's the list from Madame Pomfrey, Professor," the boy said eagerly. It was almost like the boy looked forward to being there.

"Thank you," Severus replied grudgingly, instantly wondering what had possessed him to say that, "You brought your books again," he observed quickly changing the subject.

"Yes, I thought you might want me to, and it couldn't hurt."

"You have eaten, yes?"

"Yeah, I ate lunch with Ron and then left when he was going to head to the Hospital Wing to see if Hermione could get out. And then I think he was going to eat lunch again with her, but I didn't ask," the child actually laughed, even if it was more of a small chuckle. It was the most relaxed Severus had seen the boy while they were in close proximity, and far less- haunted than he had been bursting into his space two days before. It seemed that Severus was right to give the boy a task to bring him to the Hospital Wing with his friends the night before. Seeing people who cared about him must have done him some good- not that Severus had the boy's interested in mind with that task. It was simply that Severus would spend no longer in the Hospital Wing than was absolutely necessary, not unlike the boy in that way if he would admit it.

Severus began crushing the beetle's eyes first, thinking through a productive but safe conversation topic. It was eerie just to have the boy watching him. Severus glanced at the boy's books- with the child's background and tendencies, defense was more relevant. "What shielding charms are you proficient with?"

"Well, I only know Protego very well, but I've read about stronger variants on the spell, and tried them a bit before DA meetings. I plan to work more on them. All of the club became proficient with Protego, at least, which was great to start."

"And what do you do when a shield charm is not sufficient?" Severus prodded, looking at his work rather than the boy. There were some newt eyes to add as well, and they did not pulverize nearly as well as beetle eyes, requiring a knife and more attention as they produced unneeded juices to separate out.

"You mean like against Unforgivables? I usually just try not to get hit. I ducked behind gravestones in the cemetery to avoid killing curses, and the curses would damage the stones, but it generally held up okay. And conjuring something really solid would work- I think I mentioned that yesterday- but I haven't gotten the chance to test it yet. Dodging, ducking, not getting hit is mostly what I've done." The boy had a habit of talking carelessly about deadly situations such as avoiding killing curses. Severus had not actually heard much detail about the conflict in the graveyard, other than the boy escaped. The Dark Lord did not speak of his failures, nor did any servant of the Dark Lord who hoped to live through the experience, not that Severus was likely to live particularly long himself. One's imminent mortality wasn't the cheeriest subject to think on while stirring, but he was Severus Snape and used to such thoughts. It seemed that the boy was used to thinking about such dark matters as well.

Severus added the beetle and newt eyes in measures, a pinch of each in turn until the amounts were gone, while stirring with his left hand, "And what do you plan to teach in your club next year?"

"I- haven't really planned anything yet. Maybe some running, because getting physically tired in battle is awful. Definitely more dueling and group battling," the boy replied absently.

"I suggest a focus on silent casting, so your enemy does not know your plans," Severus suggested mildly, still stirring.

"I read about that, but haven't been able to cast anything silently yet," the boy commented. Of course they wouldn't have learned anything useful with that woman. It was more of a sixth year emphasis, but Severus believed students would benefit by being introduced to the idea earlier.

"It will be important in some of your NEWT classes, the ones taught by competent individuals anyway, so you will learn it then. If I were teaching a class other than potions, I would have introduced the concept by fifth year at the latest and required it of all NEWT students."

"That sounds be good," the boy said, nodding.

Severus laid down the stirring rod, their potion completed for the day, "And would you allow Slytherin students to join your little club? If you plan on following school policies rather than relying on secret rendezvous, organizations usually have a faculty advisor and are open to all houses," he said the instruction with a bit of his old contempt, no hint that the boy's response meant anything to him.

"Er- yeah, if they want to learn, yeah. I don't think many of, at least the older years, would want to listen to anything I had to say, but I wouldn't keep them out if they- wanted to learn and didn't cause problems. I guess if a teacher was there, there wouldn't be problems," the boy settled on. Severus nodded, surprised the boy even considered allowing Snakes in his club. Severus retreated to the supply cupboard momentarily. He brought out ingredients for two more potions, wondering if the boy would want to stay again, wondering if he should allow it. He was bringing out ingredients for the boy, wasn't he? Why was he so confident that the boy would want to suffer his company any longer?

"Do you insist on continuing to invade my space? If so, know that you will be again put to work."

"Er- yes sir then. I don't mind brewing." Severus almost huffed.

"Identify the potion you will be making today," he instructed, placing the boy's supplies in the same area the boy had been working in the day before.

"Shrinking solution," the child answered confidently.

"Proud that your studying made you identify a third year level potion?" Severus sneered slightly.

"No- er- I just remember this one especially. We had a summer essay on it, and brewed it early in third year. I remember that we had to help Malfoy because he was faking still being hurt after Buckbeak attacked him, because he taunted the hippogriffs when Hagrid told him not to," the boy said almost challengingly. That was not something Severus would comment on. He knew well enough that the Malfoy heir was being a brat. "Ron had to give Malfoy his rat spleen," the boy commented. Did the child remember every minor injustice Severus had ever inflicted?

"If I recall, your summer essay was terrible, worse than your normal classwork," Severus groused back. He did remember that poor essay. Severus didn't remember any other student's work from that assignment, just the boy. He always paid special attention to the boy even when he wished he didn't spend the effort. The boy's summer work was usually awful, likely because it was not essentially written by Granger like the rest of his school work.

The boy just shrugged and found the instructions for the potion in the third year book Severus had also retrieved for him. "The Dursleys locked up my school things in my old- in the cupboard. I can usually get to them before the end of the summer, but then- I guess it's a lot of work and there's always a lot of things going on." Severus looked at the boy oddly, but the child just began ingredient preparation. That was a- candid and upsetting response.

 _Damn, the boy was actually pitiable._ "And I was surprised to see the beast in headquarters and learn of your little rescue mission. Piecing together the details that Albus deigned to share, with the knowledge of Miss Granger's time turner that she returned after that year, I would imagine that several laws were broken on that occasion."

The boy just shrugged again. Severus thought he saw a little smile. _Where was the anger, the outright rage?_ Severus was actually more comfortable with that side of the boy. "Dumbledore told us too, even to get Buckbeak. It didn't do much good in the end except for Buckbeak and Hagrid. Sirius only got two more years, and he was pretty miserable for most of those." And not the boy was back to being sad. Dealing with a morose teenager was worse than an angry one. Severus turned to look at his own work, that afternoon for a batch of burn salve. "What's going to happen to Buckbeak?" the child said softly. He really was just a child, wasn't he?

Severus sighed, "The Order, is still looking through Black's personal effects, but I am aware that a will was found and authenticated naming you as sole beneficiary, so I believe the beast may be yours. I know Hagrid has already mentioned the monster, saying that he could take the thing back to Hogwarts and give it a new name, and no one would know. One hippogriff looks more or less like the others."

"I- Sirius had a will?"

"Yes, witnessed by Albus and a few other Order members. I believe Albus instructed him to do so when his estate became headquarters. In the event of his demise, it was important for the place to not go to his closing living relatives, the Lestranges or Malfoys." The boy nearly _growled_ at the name Lestrange.

"That's good then. I wouldn't want her hands on it, Bellatrix's. I don't really- want the stuff, but it's good that it's not going there. And Hagrid should have Buckbeak back of course."

"There are still legal matters to be worked out," Severus admitted. "I believe Albus is working on clearing Black's name so that some of the transactions can go through the Ministry and Gringotts's, not that Gringotts would care much about criminals of wizarding laws."

The child huffed, "Doesn't do him much good now, but- he would've liked that."

Severus looked at his own brew, already turning close to the orange hue it would be when the burn salve was thickened and completed. The boy seemed to be done with his as well. "Bottle it up, the same size bottles as yesterday, and if you're coming tomorrow, I will be beginning at ten," Severus instructed. Severus noticed the boy smiling again at his completed potion, actually proud of his work. He- probably could have complimented the boy when the child was younger. The boy left seeming pleased with himself.

Severus thought back over their day, the lost look the boy had when talking about Black and his will, and their talk of the boy's club. Severus wondered if any of his Slytherins would join such a club, and what their motivations would be to do so. Not many would attend, he thought, out of fear of their peers if not for any other reason. Life as a young Slytherin was an interesting power struggle. Of course, the life of certain Gryffindor children was admittedly at least as complicated.

*****Severus, Day 4*****

Severus watched his young student enter the room, twenty minutes early this time. That day, Severus was to shred roots of various magical plans to add them to their potion, but it wasn't yet time. The boy still had the same two books tucked under his arm, Severus noted.

"Turn your potions book to the section on invigoration draughts and tell me the number of pinches of ground mint leaves and the significance of the size of each pinch." The boy scrambled to comply.

"Er- there's three pinches, but there's nothing about the size of what a pinch is. I just remember grabbing as much as would stay between two fingers and it seemed to work well." Yes, the boy had done an unusually good job on that one, hadn't he? Severus was particularly cross with the boy that day and had crushed the first phial the boy had brought for marking. It hadn't improved Severus's mood that at first glance, his least favorite student made "E" or even "O" quality work. Severus had smiled more than was strictly appropriate to see that Granger had vanished the boy's potion before the boy had taken a second sample leaving him with a zero for the day. It seemed petty now, almost to the point of making Severus feel ill.

"Close enough, I suppose. The size of the unit is not important in many beginner potions, and it not even as important as one might think in more precise brews. It is largely the number and the intent that dictates results. This is not a muggle chemistry class or cooking soup. It is why the number of units, the number of stirs, the direction of stirring, all matter significantly more than the absolute quantity of ingredients. At times, instructions call to use all of the leaves from a prescribed plant, but it matters little how many leaves were available to use. Now, why the number three?"

"Um- three is used a lot in potions," the boy offered. "But- er, I'm not sure why. I didn't think the book had ever said."

"The number seven and the number one are also common numbers. You would have a better guess at the answer if you had taken Arithmancy rather than wasting your time with the weaker electives."

"Hagrid's a great teacher, and I've learned loads of important things about magical creatures," the boy protested quickly. The boy was much calmer than the child Severus had in class for five years, but would defend his friends as most young Gryffindors would.

"Rubeus Hagrid is not a fully qualified wizard, has no NEWT or even OWL scores, and has a blindness for dangerous creatures, likely because his giant blood makes his body more durable, larger, and stronger, so he has significantly less to fear from his beasts than needs to be instilled in a group of third years. In addition, he does not seem to know sufficient information about creatures that he finds less interesting but that are nonetheless important, such as care of flobberworms, which are key potions ingredients. I believe you also know this to be true. Tell me, do you intend to continue Care of Magical Creatures to the NEWT level?"

The boy looked angry, fists clenched. Severus was sure he was about to scream and leave Severus's classroom, never to return unless forced. The potion wouldn't even matter anymore. This was the dynamic Severus was used to. But then the boy closed his eyes, took and released a deep breath and said, "I do not believe I will be continuing, no. And Hagrid does well enough, better than some other teachers that I've had at this school, many really, and I'm sure he would be more qualified if he hadn't been wrongly kicked out of Hogwarts when he was a kid without even any real proof. I wouldn't have thought that _someone_ before Hermione, a second year muggle-born, would have figured out that the beast was a basilisk, and that Hagrid couldn't have controlled it because he wasn't a Parselmouth. But we can't choose our pasts and need to make the best of opportunities when they come."

"The effect of looking indirectly at a Basilisk had not been observed during written records. But it is otherwise an accurate assessment, I believe." That was perhaps insightful for a Gryffindor, "And your other elective, Divination?"

"Divination is a waste of time, and I might have dropped it when Hermione did except I only signed up for two electives so I couldn't drop one. I believe Trelawney has only made two real predictions, both of which just made my life worse. But, it was easy to get good enough marks from her so long as I just give her what she wants. I'd just write about all the gruesome ways I'm going to die and that other bad stuff that will happen to me because of the stars or my dreams, or the tea leaves, or whatever. I'm sure I did terribly on the OWL, but I didn't really care." That was another level of disturbing, encouraging a child to predict his death. _And what was this other prophesy from Trelawney that the boy knew about? Severus was not aware that the fraud had made another prediction…_ How much did Albus know that he wasn't telling the Order. The boy must have assumed that Severus knew more than he did. The boy started talking again, still calmly, "So, since I didn't take Arithmancy, why is the number three important?"

"The numbers three and seven both have to do with completion and magical strength, seven more so than three, usually, but not everything needs so much power. Even numbers are more likely to signify rest or completion, and are often used in potions like the calming draught. Seven is also considered more 'restful' for lack of a better word, than three, so it shouldn't be surprising to see three in an invigoration draught," the boy just nodded. "You will brew it today if you wish. You may gather your ingredients when you are ready," Severus said, trusting the boy to gather his own ingredients this time. He was unsurprised when the boy left his book opened to the correct pages and went to gather his materials. He was starting to add the first required root to their potion base as the boy returned.

"Do you wish to continue Potions class in the NEWT level?" Severus asked, hating himself for doing so.

"Well, I doubt I'll get to decide that because I almost certainly didn't get an "O" on my OWL, but I suppose I'd take it if I did, at least now I would, but it's not so bad if I don't I guess."

"Are you not concerned about the possibility of missing NEWT Potions class? I understood that you wanted to be an Auror, and it would be unlikely to be accepted into the program without at least an "E" at the NEWT level in potions," Severus bristled.

"Well, you know the prophesy right?" Harry asked, and continued even though Severus hadn't responded. He in fact did not know the full contents of the prophesy, and would be surprised if the boy did. "Well, you know how it said either I have to kill Vol- sorry, You-Know-Who, or he's going to kill me? Well, I figure if I managed to kill him I could- well, I don't want to sound arrogant, but I figure the Ministry would hire me after that and not really ask about my marks. Or maybe I won't want to chase after dark wizards anymore after all that. But it's more likely I won't live long enough to worry about a career anyway."

 _That_ was what the damned prophesy said? Of course that was what it said- hadn't he been expecting something to that affect? But it was different to hear it from the mouth of the child whose fate it concerned. That's what he'd doomed the boy to by passing along the news to the Dark Lord? Severus didn't believe all of the prophesy rubbish and didn't understand how anyone could after meeting Sybil Trelawney, but once ideas were in peoples' minds, such things were often self-fulfilling. And now this was in the child's mind, and Dumbledore's. "When your OWL results arrive, speak to your head of house to discuss options. Perhaps arrangements can be made." There, that was pleasant enough. It was far too depressing to hear such a pragmatic approach from the mouth of a fifteen-year-old. He was probably right though, about the ministry overlooking grades for the Boy Who Lived, at least during times when he held the favor of the public. It was rather Slytherin to consider exploiting that actually.

"Thank you," the boy said, head bent over his own work, quiet for a few moments, "I haven't told anyone about the prophesy, not even Ron and Hermione," the boy said quietly. _Oh Merlin, he was not some shrink._

"You shouldn't put too much stock in prophesies. Many only come to pass because people know about them and work to create their fruition."

"I know. But Vol- the Dark Lord or whatever, won't stop until he's killed me at this point, and I can't just stop trying to beat him. But I can't help but think- you know how the prophesy could have been about me or Neville? I can't help but- if the potion is positive, maybe it should have only been Neville since it doesn't really describe you."

"I had defied the Dark Lord in multiple ways before that point, even if I had not fully shifted my loyalty until after your birth," Severus admitted, not sure why he was bothering to speak. He could take it as evidence that the boy wasn't his, though that would mean putting stock in a prediction made Sybil Trelawney. Surely he should jump at any reason to not claim the boy? Why was he- offended at the thought? Severus arranged the remained of his diced roots and began placing them into their potion in the right order while stirring, trying to not care about whatever the boy might say.

"Oh. Maybe I'll get to hear about that sometime."

"Perhaps," Severus said uncomfortably, wishing he had never spoken. What would compel him to say that? Well, he might as well be as direct as the child. The boy wouldn't notice how un-Slytherin of an approach it was, "What makes you think that Sybil Trelawney made a second credible prediction?"

"I heard her. She went all weird and it didn't really sound like her speaking, and then she came back to normal, well normal for her and didn't remember what she had said afterwards."

"And the contents of this prophesy?" Severus asked, trying to sound aloof as he drug the boy through the questioning. The boy was starting to set up his invigoration draught as he still watched Severus.

"It-er already happened. It was the day of my examination at the end of third year, and she said that that night the servant would go to rejoin his master, or something like that. That was the night that Peter Pettigrew escaped though. I didn't understand until it was all over though, so it wasn't very helpful. I thought it was about Sirius for a while, but mostly I didn't think about it until it was over." _What was Severus supposed to say to that?_ He wouldn't admit it, but it didn't sit well with him that Trelawney's other prophesy had actually come true. The boy was still talking, "It's my fault he got away- Pettigrew, I mean. Sirius and Lupin wanted to kill him, but I made them stop. I thought having him alive would make it more certain that Sirius would be cleared and I- didn't think they should become murderers over him, but I know that I was wrong now. He deserved to die and I should have let it happen, even if I wasn't brave enough to do it myself. Vol- _He_ wouldn't have been able to come back to his body, or maybe it would have taken longer at least, if I had just let Wormtail die."

 _Fucking hell, the child was disturbed, carrying far too much guilt_. "I believe you had already foiled one of the Dark Lord's attempts to regain power at age eleven, which was most certainly _not_ your responsibility. And it doesn't take particular bravery to commit murder." There, that was something wise to say, something like Albus might say in fact. Stirring. He was supposed to be stirring his potion and couldn't afford to lose count. Restarting at this point was not an option.

"But it _is_ my job. I have to at least try whether I like it or not, and I _don't_ like it. And I'm not saying I'd go off and murder innocent people. I'm not even sure if I can murder Vol- sorry, I know you don't like the name so I try not to say it- You-Know-Who, but the prophesy says I have to or else-"

"Or else you ignore Sybil Trelawney," Severus huffed, interrupting the boy. It would always irk him that his life and seemingly the entire wizarding world (or at least a good portion of Europe for now) was so dictated by the words of that irritating woman, words that he still didn't even know all of.

"Well, _He_ won't let me do that, will he? Fourth year was enough proof of that, if the other years weren't enough already. And this year how he- how he invaded my mind and everything, made me see that door so much and then tricked me. If I'd just known what he was trying to do, known that he wanted a prophesy that was hidden there, maybe I wouldn't have-. But it doesn't matter. It just shows that he'll get to me eventually. Even his memory or whatever was obsessed with me in second year, through that damned diary."

"Perhaps- it is foolish to imply that you will be left alone, but you needn't seek out the- instances." Stirring- still stirring, just stirring.

"I haven't- just- it always just happens and no one else is able to do anything about it so we- do it. And I know I shouldn't let my friends come too, but they wouldn't let me do it alone, not even first year. I never set out meaning to fight my teachers or basilisks or dementors or dragons or- anything. The most dangerous thing I've actually signed up for is quidditch, and my only really bad injury there was from Lockhart."

The child made some amount of sense, but no one just _happened_ into all of that trouble. Still, it wasn't entirely the boy's fault, something Severus would have never even thought a week ago. "Faculty should have been more of a deterrent, but not many saw from my- perspective. You shouldn't have been praised and awarded hundreds of points as first years who broke half of the school rules in a night."

The boy almost laughed, as if anything about the situation was humorous, "It was only two or three rules, I think. Hermione kept track. But we shouldn't have been given all of those points. Slytherin should have won the House Cup that year. I was just happy at the time, but I was only eleven. If it had happened the opposite way, I would have hated the Slytherins for it, so it was a bad idea. There doesn't need to be more reasons for the houses hating each other." _What? Harry Po- Gryffindor Golden boy admitting that Slytherin should have won something as large as the House Cup?_

"There were many- crying first years and older students as well, that evening," Severus admitted, "Of course, that was only after leaving the feast and the eyes of the rest of the school. Your Slytherin peers are not heartless, only trained in restraint."

"I- sorry. It's not like I did it for points. I never really do anything for points except try to win at quidditch and not do anything stupid to lose them." Severus was not sure that he could respond to that last bit in a civil manner. The boy had always done lots of stupid things to lose points. "I know it probably doesn't seem like that to you." _What the hell was the boy doing being insightful?_

"Gryffindor would not have been down so many points except for a late night outing, connected to Hagrid's appetite for inappropriate pets?" Severus supplied him.

"I-" the child fumbled, clearly not wanting to incriminate his overgrown childish friend.

Severus uncharacteristically took pity on the boy, "Everyone in the Order knows about his "Little Norbert. The man talks about him often after a few drinks. Apparently the beast was female after all and has already had a few little monsters of her own. The man couldn't even tell that the thing was female."

"Well, could you?" the boy challenged.

"Yes, I could, but I actually _took_ NEWT level Care of Magical Creatures," Severus retorted hotly. _Done_. Done with that damned potion for the day.He could put the stirring rod down and not touch the potion for another two days as it happened.

"Oh- should I take it?" the boy asked. The boy actually asked his opinion on class schedule.

"You can talk to your head of house, but it is not something required by the Auror training program and I doubt would have much use for you outside of personal interest in the subject. I am not sure that you have the free time to pursue as an extra class. Now, if you wish to stay, get working on that Invigoration Draft. There will be no steps for our potion tomorrow, so no reason for you to come." Severus watched as the boy focused on the ingredients in front of him. Severus went to fetch his own ingredients for the strengthening solution he had been planning on brewing that day. He spent longer than was strictly in the supply cupboard collecting himself and going over what the boy had said. They brewed in relative silence, and like the days before, the boy had brewed an exemplary potion.

 **A/N: Another chapter! This one was harder to write, to piece things together. A lot will be happening next chapter, so hold on. Thank you so much for the reviews, and please let me know what you think! I've recently been possessed by a new story, which always throws a wrench in plans… I'm not sure if I'll even want to post this new one, but I can't seem to stop writing it…**


	4. Chapter 4 Unexpected Appearance

Chapter 4- Unexpected Appearance

*****Severus, Day 5*****

It was- quiet in his lab without the boy. He had only been brewing for a few hours a day for this last week of term, and most of them were in the company of the boy. It wasn't that he enjoyed the companionship of course. It was that having someone else brew the lower level potions had even freed up more of his time. He certainly didn't mind that he wouldn't have the child underfoot for one day today.

Severus looked up to see the boy walking through his doorway looking quite uncomfortably. "You didn't answer when I knocked," the boy said almost apologetically.

What was the boy doing? The child was surprising him far too much lately. Spies weren't supposed to be _surprised._ And how had he missed a knock at his door?"There aren't any steps for the potion today," Severus said. But surely the boy couldn't have forgotten already?

"I know. I just- didn't know what to do and hoped you wouldn't send me away anyway. If you do, I understand, and I guess I'll figure something else out." _What?_ The boy was lonely but avoiding his little friends, Severus supposed. It made little sense, but more than anything else.

Severus stared at the boy who had wreaked such havoc on his life in the last days, more than in the last five years. And they had just been talking during those days, almost amicably, over a range of varying in importance issues, but not about what had been bothering him most about the boy, "You may stay if you wish, if you answer my questions," Severus said, pausing to give the child ample time to flee. The boy only nodded, looking around the room as if he hadn't spent hours every day there for nearly a week already, and classes for the previous five years. "The first day you invaded my office, you made a few comments indicating that your relatives did not care for you the way guardians should care for a child?" It wasn't really a question, but it would service for a Gryffindor.

"Er- I guess so. I mean, I can't blame them- it's not like anyone ever asked if they wanted me. They can't have or the Dursleys would've said no. And I caused a lot of trouble for them, I guess, with magic when I was a kid, even though I didn't know what was happening or really think I was causing it."

"They did not explain to you about magic? Your mother's sister would have known a fair amount about magic from her childhood," Severus said neutrally, grinding mandrake leaves to go into his skele-grow.

"No, magic was the worst thing to mention in that house, worse than anything else I could imagine, and I didn't know why. Sometimes shows on television that Dudley wanted to watch were about magic, and when they found out, even _he_ wasn't allowed to watch them, and Dudley was allowed to do anything he wanted usually. They came up with other explanations for what had happened, like a terrible sweater I didn't want to wear must have shrunk in the wash, when I guess really I shrank it with magic. And when they couldn't come up with an explanation, they just punished me anyway and didn't say anything about how the- oddity happened, like when I turned my teacher's hair blue," the teenager admitted, facing the other direction, though that was hardly needed because Severus wasn't looking at the boy much anyway. He was busy trying to look anywhere else. Quietly, the child added, "They said my mum and James were drunks and got themselves killed in a car wreck and that's where I got my scar."

Fury locked Severus's hands. He looked down at his work and realized that he'd have to start with new leaves because he'd grounded these for too long. Severus Snape hadn't been distracted enough to ruin potions ingredients in years. "I see, and do others- the Headmaster and the Weasley family know about this?"

"Er- some of it. Hagrid knew about the car wreck bit, because he was the one who told me the truth. And, I think most everyone in the Order knows that the Dursleys don't like me. If they did, I guess I'd spend the whole summer there and not get out as soon as I could each year. Fred and George and Ron rescued me before second year, so they saw the bars and the locks. Tonks probably did too, because she came up to my room to help me pack last summer."

"Bars and locks?" Severus said calmly, grinding new leaves more carefully this time while maintaining a calm façade. The boy wouldn't have to realize that he'd made a mistake in ingredient preparation.

"Yeah, after Dobby did some magic my first summer back there, and the ministry sent a letter so they knew I wasn't allowed to do magic in the summer. I'd er- gotten them to give me some space when they were afraid I might be able to hex them, well, Dudley had been afraid at least. I guess I should be surprised that my aunt didn't already know that I wasn't allowed to use magic. Was that not a rule or law or whatever when you and my mum were kids?"

"It was- less enforced at the time," Severus settled on before darting the boy with another question, "And what were your usual punishments, and what did you have to do to deserve them? Why did they place bars and locks on your windows- did they have reason to think you would run away?"

"Why do you care?" the child asked, almost pathetically. Severus would have expected anger if anything- more of a scream.

"I thought that would be obvious given the nature of the potion we- I have been brewing," he managed uncomfortably.

"Even if we're blood related, you don't have to care about me," the child said simply, "The Dursleys don't care, and I'm related by blood to them, except for Vernon, but I guess he does hate me the most."

"I am treating you the same way, asking the same question, that I would any of my Slytherin students who came from an unhappy home. It is more common of your fellow students than you might think. And my house is not the only one who receives troubled children, though I must say, they are not often in Gryffindor."

"The hat wanted to put me in Slytherin," the boy said softly enough that Severus would have missed it if he had worse ears.

"Then why are you in Gryffindor?" he couldn't stop himself from asking. Why didn't the world make sense anymore? The Boy Who Lived, Harry James Potter- in Slytherin? But there's the rub, wasn't it? He perhaps shouldn't have been a _Potter_ in the first place. And what can a child really have in common with a father who was dead before he could remember him? Or a father who wasn't around because he didn't know the child was his?

"I asked the hat to put me there. Well, I asked it to not put me in Slytherin, and I guess Gryffindor was a good fit too, or decent at least, it thought."

"And why did you ask the hat to place you in a different house?" Severus asked, abandoning the mandrake leaves entirely so he didn't ruin another batch.

"I'd met Malfoy, in my first visit to Diagon Alley, and he was prejudiced against anyone who wasn't a pureblood, and he was rude to Hagrid who was the best person I'd met in my life. And Ron was sure he was going to be a Gryffindor, and he and his family were nice to me, so I guess I probably wanted to be in a house with him. Oh, and Malfoy was rude to Ron too, when we were waiting to be sorted."

Severus kneaded his forehead, something he would have yelled at a student for after handling any potions ingredients, even if they weren't toxic. The child had been so desperate for positive attention that he befriended the first family who was nice to him. He was probably fortunate that it was the Weasleys. And of course he would avoid the unpleasant spoiled boy… Strange that he would have used those words to describe this child a week ago. "I suppose that is- understandable for an eleven-year-old. I believe I first asked you some questions about your relatives that you have yet to answer. About punishments and bars and locks on your windows?"

"Would you have liked me if I'd been in Slytherin?" the stubborn boy bit out, eyes meeting his now. This wasn't the question and answer session that Severus had intended.

"I can't know that, now can I?" It was a poor answer. _Probably not, not with that face._ Regardless, the boy was better off where he was. The world would not have reacted well to a Slytherin Boy Who Lived. "I would not have been outwardly demonstrative at the least. Slytherins present a united front even if they disagree in the safety of their common room. You probably assume that I do not punish my own students. I assure you that I do- only not in view of the rest of the school."

"The locks were on the door, not just the windows, so I couldn't get out of the room except when they let me out to use the loo. They made a flap in the door to pass food through when they felt like it, and I could drink from the sink when they let me out. It was hard to take care of Hedwig, which was the worst part. They're not always that bad though. They were scared because of the magic and angry because I'd messed up a business deal for Uncle Vernon- or, Dobby did really, but they didn't accept that explanation. I'd be told I couldn't have dinner lots of times as a kid, or no food the next day, but they usually didn't lock me up, so I could steal some at night, or I could just sneak some food when I was cooking for them, so long as I didn't take much and only when Aunt Petunia wasn't watching. And I could always drink water from the sink or the hose when I was working outside."

They _starved_ the boy. Petunia Evans starved Lily's son. _His son!_ The child was saying it all like it wasn't an ordeal, perhaps underreporting the neglect even. There were more details there too, "You did the yard work and cooked meals. Anything else?"

"Cleaning. And painting and stuff. Sometimes Aunt Petunia cooked, when she wanted to or was having special guests."

"I see- and did your cousin have a share of these chores?"

"No," the boy laughed a bit, "Dudley got whatever he wanted, and he mostly wanted to sit down and eat, and beat up little kids."

Another lump in his throat, "And were you one of those kids?"

The boy was picking at some imagined piece on his robes, "When I was younger, yeah. Not since first year though. Hagrid gave er- scared him about magic, and he didn't much mess with me anymore. I was too fast for him to catch without his friends to help anyway. And sometimes I used magic to get away without meaning to. I had to explain how I ended up on the top of the school once."

"So, your cousin hit you when he could," Severus stated far more directly than he would with a Slytherin student, "Did your aunt and uncle try to stop him when they found out? Did they hit you themselves?"

"No," the boy said quickly, looking at his feet. The boy knew not to look him in the eye if he was lying, so there was a fair chance that he was.

"No to which part? They didn't stop him, or they didn't hit you themselves?"

"Both," the child admitted, looking so small. The boy had grown in recent years, but hadn't he been a very under-sized first year? The child opened and shut a few times, but Severus was quiet. He had far more patience than the boy, "Sometimes Uncle Vernon would shove me around a bit, or Aunt Petunia would throw something, but she almost always missed," the child whispered.

"I see. And this I why you spend as much time as possible with the Weasley family?"

"Yeah. I wouldn't go back at all, except Dumbledore said it's important for the blood wards, and they wouldn't let me stay at school anyway."

"You asked?"

"No. I didn't bother. I- thought it would be better with the Dursleys after first year, but it wasn't. And by after second year, I knew the headmaster wouldn't let me. I mean, Vol- sorry- Tom Riddle didn't get to stay, and he had to go back to an orphanage, which had to be even worse. But maybe- maybe he should have gotten to stay. Maybe he wouldn't have hated muggles so much if he hadn't only met bad ones." _Hell, fucking hell,_ the boy was empathizing with the Dark Lord. The Boy Who Lived has cast the _Cruciatus Curse_ and is now feeling _sorry_ for, understanding, the _Dark Lord._

"Have you met many nice muggles in your life?" Severus asked. Oh hell, what was he doing to himself now? He was _not_ some therapist.

"Hermione's parents are nice, though I've barely met them. And Mrs. Figg wasn't so bad- she's really a squib, but I grew up thinking she was norm-er a muggle." That was the best the boy could come up with? What on earth was he working with? "The school nurse was nice."

"And do you feel the need to go off and kill innocent hundreds because unrelated people who just happened to be magicless hurt you?"

"No, of course not!" the boy said with more energy. "I wasn't saying that- just that I wouldn't have gotten to spend the summer at Hogwarts, because he had it worse off, and he didn't get to."

"You have more empathy than most Hufflepuffs," Severus sighed. "Each person has their own past, but it does not excuse their later mistakes. Perhaps when they are eleven they are not responsible for their actions, but before seventeen at the very least… And I do not take it as given that life in an orphanage was worse than your life before Hogwarts, with what I know now."

"I never ran away, because I knew they wouldn't take me back if I did. They said sometimes that they should take me to the orphanage but wouldn't because what it the neighbors found out. They said they'd missed their chance when I was a baby before everyone knew about me and before they knew how much trouble I'd be. Except, I did run away before third year, they- the ministry or someone- made the Dursleys take me back after that. They did something to force the Dursleys to take me back."

Severus looked over at his mandrake leaves, untouched for the last minutes but ground well enough this time. He was lucky that his potion was very forgiving at this stage. "Arrangements can be made to make your summer more bearable, if your stay at your relatives must in fact take place. You will doubtless have a guard at all times, and there is no real reason why that guard cannot enter the house to monitor from there. Now, I do not believe I have any other questions at this time, and I'm sure your friends are worried about where you disappear to." He needed time to think.

"Please?" the boy asked without Severus knowing what he meant. He looked over at the boy who started talking again. "I know I've made all the potions on the list from Madame Pomfrey that I've brewed before, but isn't there anything else I can do? I'll scrub caldrons or whatever," he mumbled.

"You've not been given a detention. Surely caldron scrubbing is another form of torture?" Did he just try to tell a joke? Perhaps it was too poor to be considered a joke by anyone's standards.

"I clean a lot- it's not so bad," the boy said, rubbing salt in Severus's wounds. The boy was in fact so starved for attention that he would be willing to scrub caldrons to not be tossed out by the dungeon bat.

"You can brew the antidote for common love potions. You'll have to let it sit overnight after the first stage is completed."

"I haven't brewed that before, sir," the boy said, as if Severus didn't already know.

"No, you wouldn't have. It's one of the first that I cover in sixth year potions. Around that age, there's always one or two who would consider resorting to a love potion for affection, so it is necessary and educational to provide defense. Of course, the Hospital Wing always has it in stock and usually needs some around February." Damned Valentine's Day- what kind of holiday was that?

"I- you trust me to brew a NEWT potion?"

"I am not even two meters away, and the potion is difficult but hardly deadly- I don't think my classroom is in danger," Severus managed. "Now fetch a sixth year book and follow instructions, which I may supplement with directions of my own. Often instructions recorded in books are not ideal, a concept I begin my sixth years with." The child scrambled away, returning with perhaps the most battered and ugly book on that old shelf. The boy had an entitlement issue, but not the entitlement problem that Severus had thought a spoiled Potter brat would have. "You will brew the base today, and the more difficult portion tomorrow. The theory is not very different from the cure for common poisons. Take that book with you when you leave today and study that entire chapter before you arrive tomorrow, if you still wish to return." The boy just nodded and gave a bit of a smile, settling onto the correct page and squinting at the text. Were the boy's eyes that bad? Had he never noticed another facet of the boy's neglect? How did the child play as a seeker so well? Severus returned to his own brewing plans for the day, his skele-grow. Severus found himself not even looking at the boy often, but trusting him to do the work adequately. Severus had been impressed with the boy's brewing abilities in the past days, and thought the child did better when he didn't hover.

Severus had another hour of brewing ahead of him when he knew Harry would be approaching the final stages for the day. "Add one stir counterclockwise after every third clockwise stir," he instructed just as the boy had lifted his stirring rod. He glanced over and caught the child's shocked expression before the boy hurried to do as he instructed. Severus shook his head- changing directions didn't sit well with some students, but he hadn't actually expected it to particularly bother this one, as the boy always had a 'flexible' understanding of rules. He wondered if Miss Granger would hemorrhage next term when he told her that her precious books were flawed. "Ten o' clock tomorrow," Severus said in dismissal as the boy gathered his things and left his presence.

"Thank you," the boy said in almost a whisper as he left.

When his potion was finally completed, Severus collected himself. The boy had no reason to come today, but he had come anyway. Of course, the boy didn't actually have to be present until blood needed to be added to the potion, so he was always there by choice anyway. None of this was what Severus had expected this week to be like.

 **A/N: Sooooo- what do you think? Please review! Any predictions for the next day? Several people wondered what Harry would do on his day off, but I wanted him to still show up anyway. After all, it's not like he had to ever come to watch Severus brew the potion, or try to maneuver his way into staying longer by brewing potions. Also, real life update, I just got a new job! But I have a fair amount written in backlog, so I don't think updates will slow down. I'll try to make sure they don't anyway. Only two more chapters of Part I of this story!**


	5. Chapter 5 Old Memories

Chapter 5- Old Memories

*****Severus, Day 6*****

Severus stared at the last ingredients that would need to be added to the potion base, bonding agents, generally the stickiest and least pleasant ingredients to work with, but at least it was nearing the end. Then, the following day, they would add their blood samples and the potion would be done. The boy was almost silent as Severus worked, unusually quiet for the talkative boy. After their far too personal discussions into the boy's life the day before, Severus didn't feel up to jumping into another conversation. He was relatively sure the boy would continue to answer honestly if he did, out of what- the boy's desire for acceptance? Fear of being thrown out of the classroom? Perhaps they were both silent from the anxiety of reaching the end of the potion and the uncertainty of the result. Could he have actually spent the last almost sixteen years hating his own son? Had he made his child's life worse for the past five of those years? But the child's life had been terrible before that- spending time with relatives who held nothing but hatred for him, and Severus had not even cared enough to look past the similarities to James Potter's face.

It was perhaps the longest ten minutes Severus had spent in his classroom, finishing the base of their potion without a word out of the boy- the boy not speaking either. Severus left to gather the supplies the boy would need or the second half of his antidote for love potion, as well as ingredients Severus would need for his own Pepper-up potion. He should have had the boy grab the ingredients, since he had seemed capable of doing so before but- that would require talking to the boy, and he wasn't quite confident in his speaking abilities. "Professor, I borrowed you book," the boy said when Severus returned. _What?_

"I instructed you to borrow a sixth year text, Po- didn't I?" Severus asked, not quite able to call the boy 'Potter' but slightly baffled by the boy's slowness. Of course the child had borrowed the book as instructed- Severus had seen him do so anyway, and it hardly seemed worth commenting on.

"No, I mean, I borrowed _your_ book. It must have been yours in school. You wrote all over the margins and er- corrected the potions a lot." Severus now actually studied the text the boy held in front of him. It could have been his old sixth year book- yes, it was. It was so old and battered because it had been his mother's before him. He wondered how it made its way to that shelf at all- probably some nosy house elf cleaning his space years ago. It had likely spent years on that shelf, tossed around by children who wanted a newer looking text. Only the boy in front of him would grab the most beaten up of the bunch, as if he were afraid to break anything nice. It matched the dilapidated clothing that teachers commented that the boy wore under his robes. Now Severus was inclined to believe that the clothing choices had a more sinister root than laziness. Severus accepted the book held out to him slowly. He paged through the old text, stopping a wince when he flipped past a particularly nasty spell written in the margin. That- could have been a problem if the book were in the wrong hands. He couldn't believe that this text had been on his shelf, and he made a mental note to go check for other years' texts as well.

"How did you know it was my book?" he finally asked.

"Well, when you told me to add an extra stir yesterday, the same instruction was in the book. I thought at first that maybe it was written by a student who had just been told the same instruction, but I looked at it a lot yesterday and… I- saw that the book was signed as the Half-Blood Prince and I er- recognized your mother's maiden name."

"And how would you recognize the name Prince?"

The boy looked nervous, "I've er- done a lot of research once I formed my er- theory. The past weeks especially, but for a while before then- since the Occlumency thing, I guess. When I couldn't find the name Snape in the Hogwarts library except talking about you with no mention of your parents, I er- owl ordered a book, a few actually on recent pureblood genealogy and finally found a mention of a pureblood Eileen Prince marrying a muggle Tobias Snape at about the right time..." Severus stared at the boy, carefully expressionless. The boy would have had to have done a fair amount of research to find that information- a diligence that he had not previously thought the boy possessed. He was having to revise far too many faulty assumptions. It was a careful cultivation that most of the students in Hogwarts would be shocked to learn that he was not pureblood. Many if not most of his Slytherins knew because of their parents, he was sure, but it wasn't discussed even in Slytherin. Phineas Nigellus wasn't overly fond of him, and he wondered if the portrait cared that his former position before becoming Headmaster was filled by one with such impure blood.

"I would like to anticipate that discovery of yours _not_ spreading across the castle before dinner," Severus drawled, bringing up his intimidating airs, he hoped.

"What that you're half-blood? I wouldn't tell. I haven't even told Hermione and Ron and I won't if you don't want me to. I was just surprised at first, but maybe it made more sense that you'd get to know my mother if you didn't really believe in the blood purity stuff. I certainly don't care about it. I'm a half blood too- I mean, either way," the boy said awkwardly. Severus wondered if the boy knew much about pureblood society. By loosest terms, some considered a wizard pureblood if all four of his grandparents were magical, but if a great grandparent was a muggle, society would pretend not to notice, particularly if any other branch involved was "respectable" enough. Others were not so lenient and a very few of their compatriots were pure enough to marry their sons and daughters, leading to an embarrassing amount of inbreeding. The boy was still talking, "And I found out that you were named Tobias Severus Snape but- always went by Severus and changed it legally before your seventh year at Hogwarts."

Severus thought his throat would close up. No one ever called him that name, even when he was a child. His mother never had, and his father didn't after his first bout of accidental magic, when the man never wanted anything to do with his son again. "Interesting detective work. I trust that you will put that effort towards your school work rather than placing your nose in others' business in the future?"

"But it is my-" the boy began protesting. "Sorry. I just wanted to know if I might have grandparents or cousins or something."

"You don't- you wouldn't. Both of my parents are dead, and, as you probably found from your little investigation, I am an only child. My parents had no siblings either, and I have no living grandparents- no relatives close enough that I would recognize them on the street."

"I'm sorry."

"You shouldn't be," Severus bit out, but felt instantly guilty to say that of her memory. "Though my mother meant well." That was far, far too much. He couldn't say more. It was still strange to hear anything personal about the boy, but he certainly hadn't meant to bare his soul in return.

"It's hard to lose someone. I don't remember losing my mum, except around the dementors, but when Sirius fell through the veil, I was going to jump in after him but Remus held me back. I sort of knew already that he wasn't coming back, but I still wanted to follow him- to leave here and go wherever he was going, even if it meant I'd be dead. Then I tried to kill Bellatrix, at least I think that's what I wanted. And when it was over, Professor Dumbledore brought me back to his office and talk to me, and he told me about the prophesy, and I was mad about everything and I broke several of his delicate silver instruments that I don't even know what they did. I'm better when I'm here, and sometimes I stay better the rest of the day. I usually have nightmares at night. I don't talk about it, any of it even though Hermione really wants me to, except sometimes I guess I talk about it here." _The boy was opening up for what purpose? - to make Severus feel comfortable because he knew a secret about his- teacher- that he shouldn't know, so the boy was sharing his own? Did the child just honestly think that he, Severus Snape, could make it better?_

"I will see the state of Albus's office myself this evening during a meeting, but I daresay you are not the first who has wanted to break something in it." _That_ was all he had? _That was the comfort that Severus Snape could offer?_ He was pathetic and needed to do something more. _Anything. Talk to him!_ "Your mother would make any situation better with her mere presence. She enjoyed helping younger students with their work, especially muggleborns, and was the best sort of prefect." Severus could tell that the boy was clinging to every word. "She liked to skip stones on the lake in the summer, and to break the scattered ice with rocks in the winter. She loved feeding the giant squid until Hagrid warned her off of it. She tried to take every elective except for Muggle Studies, not entirely unlike Miss Granger, but by fourth year she was only taking the core subjects, Care of Magical Creatures, and Arithmancy. I can't remember her being untalented at anything she tried." He wasn't usually one to notice any possible flaw in Lily anyway, but the girl was very skilled. He- couldn't think of anything else not painful to say. He kept drifting in thought to fifth year and beyond, when he could only watch her from a distance. She was probably a wonderful head girl, though he rather thought she avoided all Slytherins. Then again, most non-Slytherins avoided the house.

"And you may keep the book," he found himself saying. "It will teach you several more helpful brewing techniques, and I no longer need it. Also, if it- interests you, it was my mother's." _There- that was better._ He watched the boy hold the book closer to his chest almost like a hug. The child was smiling again. _They were both pathetic, weren't they, hopeless even?_ Severus would have never suspected it of Harry Potter but perhaps of Harry Sn- he couldn't yet think of that, even if it was nearly all that he had thought of in a week. "If you see any spells written in the margins, do _not_ attempt any of them, though you may ask me about them privately if you wish. I was going through a- dark time as a sixteen-year-old, and I imagine that any spell I developed during that time was distinctly unpleasant."

"Thank you, sir- for the stories and the book. And I- saw some of the spells, but I haven't tried them; I promise. You- made spells then?" the boy asked, probably looking for a safe topic as much as Severus was.

"Starting in my fifth year, yes. I imagine many of my notes are scattered through my old books and a few notebooks." _This was too much._ "Finish your potion if you are staying to brew. You will need that book to do so." As expected by this point, Harry turned to the correct section of Severus's old book, his mother's old book, and began sorting out his ingredients, squinting at the scribbled annotations Severus had made so many years ago when he was just about the boy's age. They didn't speak much more before the boy left for the afternoon, smiling and clutching that old book like it was precious rather than a NEWTs text filled with the complaints of a disturbed boy some twenty years ago. The boy had made a perfect NEWTs potion with only an old book with a few corrections in it, and being completely left alone by his teacher. Severus made sure to go through all of the other books left on the shelves in the laboratory, and that was the only one to have his personal ramblings in the margins. Of course the boy had to pick _that_ one, but Severus wasn't sure he was upset that the boy had.

Severus shook his head, clearing his thoughts. They would know the results of the potion either way the next morning, and then the boy would be leaving for the summer the following day, regardless of the outcome... Leaving for the summer to go to the home of cruel muggles who had made the boy's childhood far more hellish than it should have been, which was no small feat considering the fate the Dark Lord had condemned the boy too. And Severus would have to sit back and watch the boy go away unhappily, regardless whose genetics the boy held. Severus could never claim the child, could never claim his son because of their situations in this war. He was playing the good little spy for both sides, even if he was only truly loyal to one of them. He couldn't think of this now. Albus had requested an audience, unusual in the last week of term, and Severus couldn't afford to be anything less than composed in front of his employer and leader any more than he could in front of his other master.

 **A/N: Ahhh, almost done with part one! Please review and let me know what you think so far! Also, I don't know if anyone noticed, but I had fun coming up with references to the potion instructions, mentioning ones I liked- eyes for seeing, roots for familial ties, especially.**


	6. Chapter 6 Revelation

Chapter 6- Revelation

*****Severus, Day 7*****

Harry arrived at seven thirty the next morning. Severus had instructed him to arrive any time after eight, not wanting to rouse the boy too early when the child clearly didn't get enough sleep. But it had been enough time that the potion would be accurate without further delay. There wasn't anything to distract either of them that morning from the reality of what they had been doing. Severus nodded at the boy in greeting and turned to their potion. Severus filled a phial with the potion base that he had spent a week making in Harry's company. The boy had become just 'Harry' in Severus's mind sometime in that week, though perhaps not fully until the child walked into the classroom that morning. He held the phial out towards Harry in one hand with a knife in the other, "Just a drop is enough," he said, his voice suddenly horse. Severus couldn't even say that he had been speaking too much to the boy because he knew it was nothing compared to his weeks of lecturing. These days many hours were spent in complete silence and solitude when he wasn't around Harry. Too quiet. Severus could tell the boy's hands were shaking and knew what would happen even before the child hissed, finger cut deeper than needed, the boy still placed it over the phial to provide the requisite blood. Severus waved his wand and healed the cut without even thinking about it.

"Thanks," Harry said, the first word the child had spoken that morning.

Severus nodded stiffly, slicing his own finger over the phial to provide the last ingredient. They didn't have to wait for the color to change, giving them the result. The effect was almost instantaneous.

"It's negative..." Severus heard the boy say, straining to process everything around him.

*****Harry/Severus*****

"It's negative," Harry whispered, unable to keep the tears from his eyes. He had cried too much after Sirius died and hadn't thought that he had any tears left to shed. "It's good that I didn't tell anyone- not that I would have if it had been positive. It was a completely insane thought. I don't know what I was thinking. And I know it wouldn't change anything anyway, because you wouldn't want to tell anyone- I mean, I know you couldn't because of the- because of everything, but of course you wouldn't want to anyway-"

Severus held the black phial in his hand. He should be thrilled that it wasn't the red hue that would indicate a paternity match. He couldn't abide by a stronger tie to the boy, couldn't stand to be in the same _room_ with that Potter face. He'd hated the child for the entirety of the boy's life. But was that still true? The boy was crying. The child who had little more than a week ago led five other mere children to face the darkest forces of their time was crying because a man he had hated for five years wasn't his father. Severus tentatively placed a hand on the child's shoulder and had never been more surprised than when Harry Potter turned into his arms and latched on, sobbing into his teaching robes. Frozen for a full ten seconds, Severus slowly brought his arms to rest around the boy, holding him until the child cried himself out several minutes later and squirmed away muttering. Some tears might had slipped from his own eyes as well. The blankness, emptiness was creeping in.

"I'm sorry- I'm sorry. I don't know. I'm sorry, I can leave- I'm sure you don't want-. And I'll bring your book back," the boy said quickly. "At least you won't have to have me in your class next year, because I'm sure I didn't get an "O," and I won't even appeal to Professor McGonagall, I promise…" Harry rambled. _Harry._

 _What the hell was he supposed to do? Severus hadn't prepared for this conversation. He hadn't prepared for any conversation really, but... he had expected, really believed that the damn phial would be red. Why wasn't it red? All of the reasons the boy had stated made sense. They were insane, but plausible. There had been that Halloween night…_

 _WHY WASN'T THE DAMNED POTION RED?_

 _Calm. He needed to be calm._ "You will see me in class next term, I am certain. And regardless of any nonsense that came from the mouth of Sybill Trelawney that may or may not come to pass, you'll need training- adequate defense training that you have not learned at Hogwarts from the myriad of incompetents that have taught your class in the past. None of the students at Hogwarts will be prepared for a qualified defense instructor next term." He wasn't even sure how he was forming words when he could barely tear his eyes away from the phial still clutched in his hand. He- wanted to distrust his potions ability- believe that something went wrong in the brewing process, but he knew that no error would mimic a negative result.

The boy was trying to collect himself, "I- I told you they weren't all so bad, Lupin and even if Crouch was well- and what makes you think Dumbledore actually managed to hire someone competent this time, after Umbridge?" Harry asked, looking at his shoes.

Bantering was easier than really thinking when he could barely focus on a conversation, "Yes, a werewolf who nearly killed three students including yourself was the best defense teacher you have had to this date, in firm competition with a lunatic disguised as a different lunatic. He'd have been caught if he were trying to pass himself off as a sane man," _Severus knew he was rambling_ , "For the coming year, however, Professor Dumbledore has granted me the position. He informed me just yesterday in the private meeting I mentioned."

"Are you- no one's lasted in that position for more than a year for- well, is there really a curse on the position?" the boy asked, visibly startled out of his previous distress and onto a new one.

"Quite possibly yes. No one has held the position for more than a year since Tom Riddle was refused the position many years ago. I- am trying to think of this as Albus thinking the students finally need a decent teacher rather than thinking I will be disposable before the end of the year."

"You're not disposable," the child leapt out, embarrassing himself to a further blush, "er- who's going to teach potions?"

An easy, non-personal question there at least, Severus thought. "Albus is going to attempt to lure Horace Slughorn back to the post- he was the teacher before he retired and I acquired his position. In fact, I believe Albus intends to use you as bait of sorts to convince the old man to rejoin the faculty. Sl- Horace had a habit of attempting to draw close to students who he believed would do well in their future and later benefit him, and it does seem unlikely that he would refuse the opportunity to draw closer to the newly reinstated hero, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived."

Harry was shaking his head vigorously, "I don't want to be that." Yes, Severus did know now that this boy didn't want that fame, particularly at the cost of that particular attention, losing his parents, and now his godfather too.

"Horace is mostly harmless, and he has connections that can be useful to his favorite students. They were called the 'Slug Club,' a term he embraced eventually."

"I don't want…were you part of his club?"

Severus made a noise that was dangerously close to a snort, "Me, a poor, unpopular Slytherin half-blood? I was not exactly an appealing acquisition. Not that he strictly held to blood purity, but rather to those students he thought would amount to something in the wizarding world. Your mother was one though, and she dragged me to one Christmas party in our fourth year," he said more softly. "I might find some pictures somewhere," he offered lightly, throat tight.

"I- that'd be great. But, I mean, you don't have to keep being nice to me. I mean, I'm not a kid- I know you can't be nice to me around other people, not that you'd want to anyway, but it meant a lot that you were nice to me this week and I wanted you to know that. Coming here every day- it gave me something- I don't know- meaningful to do, something that wasn't sitting, staring into nothing and hating myself for killing my godfather," he held up a hand just as Severus was opening his mouth, "Which maybe wasn't totally my fault. But I only know that thanks to you. I wasn't listening to anyone else," the child admitted and looked at him with the biggest eyes. Lily's eyes. _Harry's_ eyes now, and those were pleasant to see even when he wasn't thinking of the child's mother. The boy who he was beginning to think of as his son, though he never would be. How the world had changed…

"You are not the child I thought I knew, Mr. Potter. And- Potter?" he asked, pausing for a moment over the name. It pained him to call the boy as such, but what was he to do- the boy was Harry Potter, "You will not allow yourself to slip. No lurking by high windows, cutting, starving, or harming yourself in any way," he said over the boy's immediate protests. "I'm not saying that you have been, just instructing you not to. You are not the first- distraught teenager I have encountered. You're too thin as well. Eat as much as you can during meals without making yourself sick, and get some sleep. I can have an elf deliver a few phials of dreamless sleep potion, but half portions at most and no more than three nights in a row." It was similar to advice that Poppy Pomfrey had given him when he was about the boy's age and he had lost the friendship of the person who mattered to him most.

The boy nodded, looking nervous again as he looked up, "Professor, if you don't hate me, when- when no one else is around, can you just call me Harry? I- still don't really like being called Potter."

 _What if the potion had turned red, if the child had been his- he would have then, wouldn't he? Did blood really matter so much? He didn't care for most of his own blood relatives and neither did the boy. Another thing they had in common. Did the child's face really matter that much?_ "That is- acceptable, Harry. And let Petunia know that I may- that I will be dropping in periodically, to check on the progress of your summer studies. You are to have full access to your books this summer," he said, remembering the boy's comments about sub-par summer work because his books had been locked away.

"You know my aunt?" the boy said, perhaps more startled by this than anything else that day.

"Unfortunately. I doubt she has become significantly more pleasant in the last twenty-odd years. I met her at the same time as your mother, when I was nine years old. I grew up just a few streets away from the Evans house. I may- I am certain that I can find some pictures from those days as well."

"Thank you," Harry whispered, uncomfortable and overwhelmed with eyes wet. Almost before Severus Snape the spy knew what had happened, Harry Potter gave him a brief hug and left the room, cheeks pink and without looking back. Severus stood, staring at the door long after Harry left it. His middle felt a bit less cold than normal where Harry had hugged him. He finally bottled the rest of the cauldron, more out of a feeling to not waste the last week than out of having any plan for its use.

*****Harry*****

"Are you alright, mate?" Ron asked, sounding more concerned than his friend usually was. Hermione looked at him oddly as well. Harry wondered if they had planned this conversation before talking to him. They were giving off the 'we need to talk' air. Harry looked back down at his pudding at the End of Year feast. It really was delicious. Harry had been forcing himself to notice such things as appetizing food lately. He was even having a second portion of pudding. If he didn't- dwell on the good things, he'd slip back out again, to the anger or the numbness.

"Yeah. I think so. Not as bad as I could be anyway. There's some stuff I need to tell you two, stuff Dumbledore told me, but I'm not sure I'm ready to talk about it yet."

Hermione nodded a bit too much to be casual, "That's fine, Harry, so long as you know we'll listen to anything at any time. You've been- off a lot lately, away I mean. We haven't seen you as much."

"I'll - ah tell you about that later too. Maybe after the thing with Dumbledore. I don't think I can talk about that one for a bit, but I wasn't off alone, and I do feel better, I guess because of it."

Ron looked confused and curious but nodded along anyway, "Whatever you need, Harry. We're here, you know? Like Hermione said."

"I know. And thanks," he said, forcing himself to smile even if he didn't really feel it. It would be better eventually, Harry was now fairly confident.

The night passed after the feast, packing his few belongings, wondering if he might make a stop to buy new clothes that summer. It was stupid to keep wearing worn clothes that made him unhappy to think about how little his relatives cared about him. Harry slept the night, blessedly free from nightmares thanks to a sip of the potion his- his professor had delivered as promised. The ride away from the castle, by the thestral-drawn carriages and then the train, was not so bad. The thestrals couldn't control any of the bad omens around them, and they didn't do anything to deserve the reputation. They were strong, useful beasts. Harry reminded himself to be glad of every young face who looked right past the beasts, seeing a horseless carriage as Harry had once seen. Even though the world was crumbling around him, most young students had been touched by it yet- surely that was what hope was?

It didn't bother Harry too much when Uncle Vernon was gruff picking him up at King's Cross. It wasn't like Harry expected any different. Some of the Order actually made an appearance to tell the Dursleys that they would be watching and in contact that summer. Harry hoped that some of them would actually come inside the house like Professor Snape had said. Aunt Petunia might have a heart attack if Mad-Eye Moody set foot in her kitchen, or Mundungus Fletcher, or Tonks. And if Professor Snape dropped by himself, like he had said he would (but Harry hadn't quite hoped for yet)- that would be an interesting confrontation to say the least. Harry smiled faintly but genuinely as the car pulled away from the station.

 **A/N: End of Term! End of Part One. I do have plans to write more, but here is a good resting point with some closure, so updates might take a while to continue. Please leave reviews as I am hoping to be inspired to pick this one back up. I wrote everything up to this point before I started posting anything, and I am very happy with what I have written so far, so I really hope you are too. Until then, I want to focus on Morphed Secrets, my longer Severitus story that is currently in year 2 and will have another chapter posted there within the week.**


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